(14) ph(one f)ucking

mounting the twin peaks of pretentiousness and climax

I’ve always wondered how other
people sext. it’s become a slight
obsession for me; I want to know
because I’m one of those degenerate
poets and I’m pretty sure other people don’t

try to mount the twin peaks
of pretentiousness and climax
at the same time. I’m the sort of
person who will call your low-slung
carriage of hips my cradle of desire
your pelvic cage an armoured truck
your breastbone a fortress just for
wearing clothes that are more difficult
to get off than mine

but with me more difficult to get off
than you are
I don’t know who the loser is—
or what kind of scrambled signal
my messages are sending

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